


Chill Dawn

by AraSigyrn



Series: DCU Free For All (Dick/Clark) [3]
Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-27
Updated: 2011-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark has a long day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chill Dawn

It takes three seconds for the Metropolis cell of the Royal Flush Gang's computer to broadcast a signal. It takes six seconds for that signal to reach one of the countless satellite dishes in the city. It takes half a second for the signal to reach one of the stolen LexCorp satellites and three seconds for the main weapon to arm and fire.

At top speed, it takes Superman thirteen and a half seconds to fly around the world.

"I see it!" Superman catches the tell-tale flare of light out of the corner of his eye and surges forward. The The satellite rips like foil in his hands. "Got it."

  
He can hear the police officer's sigh of relief from here, even without the communicator. "Is there any word from Wonder Woman?"

"No, sir. She and the captain are still interviewing the Queen."

"All right." He looks at the countless satellites visible through the wisps of the upper atmosphere. "Tell her I'm staying up here, in case there are any more satellites."

"Yessir, I mean, Superman, I mean…"

Toggling off the communicator, Superman turns his attention to the satellites overhead. He counts two Kord Inc communications satellites: three Wayne Industries communications satellites: two Wayne Industries weather satellites and four possibly LexCorp satellites. None are acting suspiciously as far as he can tell but there is no way to know until it's too late.

Superman drifts, super-hearing automatically tracking the faint buzz of voices, heartbeats, engines, animals and chatter of life far below him. Ice forms along the lines of his cape and clumps in his eyelashes, leaving a crystalline tear track every time he blinks. Around him the sky turns black as he floats free of the thin upper atmosphere.

Superman had been 'on duty' for nearly a full twenty four hours dealing with crisis after disaster after crisis before he got the urgent call from Wonder Woman. His costume is going to need a thorough cleaning, he hasn't eaten for hours and above all, he's tired. The physical weariness is negligible - he's saved worlds on less sleep - but the emotional toll threatens to sap even superhuman strength.

He shakes off the momentary melancholy and automatically extends his senses to listen for any changes. Silence answers. He's gone too far, too high and clear out of the atmosphere. A shiver runs through him, caused as much by surprise as by cold. Sighing soundlessly, he looks back at the satellites.

Two Kord Inc satellites, check. Three Wayne In-

"-uperman?" It's testament to his exhaustion that he nearly misses his JLA communicator going off.

"Yes, Wonder Woman?"

Wonder Woman has been awake at least as long as he has but she sounds clear-headed and alert. "We have been successful. The authorities have secured the last of the control centres and the King has been apprehended. No-one was hurt."

Superman closes his eyes in relief. "That's a relief."

"The authorities have already made arrangements to transport the cell to a secure location." Wonder Woman says simply. "Captain Sawyer has the matter well in hand and assures me that none of the compromised satellites remain. I, at least, am content to leave her to her duty and rest."

"That's good advice." Superman yawns. "I think I'll follow your example. It's been a long day."

"Then I will bid you good night, Clark." He can almost see Wonder Woman's tolerant smile. "Do give my regards to Nightwing."

Clark's cheeks heat and his own – entirely lovestruck – smile must be just as obvious to Diana as he thumbs the communicator. "I will. Good night, Diana."

He still isn't used to people _knowing_ about them, isn't used to the reminder that he isn't just 'Superman' or 'Clark' any more. Even to the people he's closest to who know both Superman and Clark, suddenly he's half of Superman-and-Nightwing, he's part of a 'they' a 'them' and an 'us'. It isn't a bad thing – truthfully it might be the best thing ever to happen to him – but it is a _new_ thing.

Since finding out about "Nightwing and Supes knockin' boots" as Red Arrow put it, his friends have been acting strangely. Diana is serenely maternal and approving. J'onn asks the oddest questions, seeking to understand what drew them together. Hal has been giving him reams of advice on how to treat his 'boy'. Wally and Roy have been carefully polite, still not entirely comfortable with the juxtaposition of Superman, the icon and Clark, the man their best friend is in love with. Dinah has been fond; teasing him about his good taste and making Dick an honest man. Bruce has been …well, Bruce.

He may not have said anything but Clark smiles the memory of Bruce's best inscrutable Bat-expression during the last meeting of the JLA. Clark arrived late, flushed and bright-eyed after a breakfast stopover in New York. Ollie and Hal had been sniggering as they took their seats and Clark resigned himself to a prolonged bout of teasing. One patented Bat-glare and everyone was suddenly eager to get down to business.

He can't remember the last time he felt so happy. His life is demanding but rewarding; he has a family of friends who love him and best of all, he has a wicked-wild gypsy lover who fills both his lives with light.

Clark races the dawn back to Metropolis, trailing a wake through the thin clouds. The first rays of the sun turn the rooftops to gold as he lands on the fire escape. He opens the window, careful not to step on the squeaky floorboard. The sound has brought Dick out of bed, batrang in hand, even after hours spent toe-to-toe with the worst Gotham has to offer. So Clark is careful. Dick doesn't sleep enough as it is.

Yawning, Clark floats through the window. He makes his way to the bathroom, shedding his uniform at a fraction of his normal speed. Dick's uniform is hanging on the back of the bathroom door and Clark stops to give it a thorough inspection. No huge tears or bloodstains but an awful lot of mud, grime and some flecks of gravel; another typical night for New York's guardian.

Satisfied, Clark drifts into the bedroom where Dick is already sprawled out over as much of the bed as he can cover, face buried in Clark's pillow. Clark takes a second to give his unconscious lover a once-over, catching innumerable bumps, scrapes and bruises but nothing serious.

Clark pulls back the sheet, the last of the day's tension seeping away to leave him languid and heavy. He switches off the alarm clock and leans over to press a kiss to the bare nape of Dick's neck. The younger man stirs, mumbling sleepily as he lifts his head to blink at Clark through the gloom. "Cl'k? Isit t'm t'get up?"

"No, no need to get up." Clark assures him with a fond smile.

"G'd." Dick rolls over, still mostly asleep and as close to graceless as he gets. He lifts an arm and manages to hook it around Clark's neck, tugging him down. "'m tired."

Clark knows his skin has to be icy – even he can feel the chill – but Dick tugs and grumbles sleepily until they're both under the covers and he's wrapped limpet-like around Clark. Clark smiles and presses another kiss to Dick's forehead as the younger man tucks his head under Clark's chin and sighs happily. "Not g't up 'til later, 'kay?"

"We won't." Clark promises, settling his arms carefully so he doesn't press on any bruises. He yawns, eyes sliding closed. Dick's breathing is already evening back out as the first rays of the dawn shine through the window.  



End file.
